Epileptic
by AsteriaLumina
Summary: Madeleine Wyndham wants change from her restricted life in London and to pursue something more. She's the only woman whom Lord Beckett had his sights on, and little did he know that she harbored deep feelings for him that he completely reciprocated. Slight AU Cutler B./OC. R&R! Revised.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **** Readers! :D This is my new Beckett/OC fanfiction that I have wanted to start for so long. This is just a little glimpse of what I had in mind, and this chapter is just posted to see how well it's received. If I receive great reviews and feedback, I'll continue it ^.^ Enjoy. R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my characters and the story itself :)**

**Chapter One: Epilepsy**

"Oh, just look at him, Elle. The divine image of a proper, perfect gentleman. Wealthy, handsome, charming and a lord? My _goodness_..." Meredith Wyndham sighed to her older sister as she rested chin in her gloved hand, leaning against the stone balustrade of the terrace they were on. Her grey eyes were dreamy and soft as she watched the man in question, twirling a powdered dark curl that rested down the back of her neck and over her nearly exposed shoulder.

Her sister, beautiful Madeleine, rolled her own sparkling grey eyes with a chuckle, "You know I don't pay attention, Merri. I'm not intent on marrying myself off so easily, like our exalted host's daughter, who seems to have glued herself to Lord Apsley's arm. He does look quite discomfited.."

Both sisters let their matching pairs of eyes travel to a pretty blonde, Evelyn Harvard, who was draped across a young lord, chattering about the latest parties in London. Sure, Evelyn was pretty and noble in blood, but she lacked the intelligence to hold up a fruitful conversation and was intent on marrying the first handsome and wealthy aristocrat she could get her hands on. A distasteful quality, though not a rare finding in London.

Madeleine wasn't interested in that at all, let alone in that particular man, at least not much. Turning back to face the spacious gardens, the dark-haired girl watched the guests of the tea party leisurely walk the lawns and mazes of the estate; ladies held their hats as gentlemen led them on the cobbled paths, and several ladies had to chase their parasols, drawing giggles from the more prim noblewomen. It was all the same, everyday, to be honest. Madeleine would attend social events held by Dukes and Countesses, Viscounts and Governors, and Meredith would accompany her with their chaperone. If she didn't have a social schedule for the day, she would attend her music lessons and sew, read or take walks. The boring life of a well-born lady. Madeleine hungered for adventure and a more interesting lifestyle, but it was not to be. Her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Windbourne, would never allow it. It wouldn't surprise her if her mother disowned her on the spot for even mentioning the word adventure; luckily, her father was more lenient and understanding, which explained why Madeleine was so much closer to him.

Turning her line of vision back to the man, she saw that he was impeccably dressed in burgundy and gold-lined coat, waistcoat and breeches that seemed to be made out of the most expensive materials, along with a gold-braided tricorne hat resting on his powdered wig. He was Lord Cutler Beckett, the Director of the prestigious East India Trading Company, representative of the King, and the most powerful man in the English Empire after His Majesty himself. He had countless enemies, vast fortunes, and controlled all trade that happened in the world. Admittedly, he was extremely beguiling and devastatingly attractive, and Madeleine had danced with him many times at the festivities of London society. He had truthfully told her that she was intelligent and held conversations that he would carry on forever if he could, and she held that compliment close.

She was snapped out of her reverie when her sister, who stood beside her suddenly flushed pink and dropped a flustered curtsey, gracefully smoothing down her white and red chintz robe d'anglaise. Out her periphery, Madeleine saw a flash of burgundy, a color she quite liked and somehow, she had a feeling it was the man she had been watching and talking of with her sister. Her large, doe-like eyes travelled up to meet steely blue ones and a warm blush crept into her lightly rouged cheeks.

"Lady Madeleine, Miss Meredith. A pleasure to see you here today," Lord Beckett greeted in a charming manner, taking each girl's hand in turn and placing a light kiss on it. Standing behind him was his ever-present clerk, the intimidating and scar-ridden David Mercer, who passively stood like a sentinel beside his employer looking as if a loved one had passed, although it was a mystery to whether he had any compassion at all.

"Lord Beckett, the pleasure is all mine, to be sure," Madeleine replied with a genuine smile, unable to resist the charm that allured her in.

Damn it, she thought. How can any woman not fight back? Meredith uttered a greeting and continued to blush like a primrose, pretty and delicate. At 16 years old, Meredith was out in society and searching for suitors, though she was intent on finding her 18-year-old sister a proper husband who would love her. After all, wouldn't it be quite humiliating if your younger sibling was paired off into an advantageous marriage before you?

"It really is a lovely day for a little gathering such as this, you put the roses to shame with your beauty," Beckett truthfully complimented, as he harbored a liking for the intelligent lady who wasn't a twit like the rest of the society women that he had to endure. She possessed cunning, wit, and was well-spoken. All qualities he searched for in a possible wife. "Would you care to accompany me on a round in the rose garden?"

Covering her blush with her lace-edged fan, Madeleine laughed lightly, "That would be quite nice. Honestly, I cannot tolerate several of the people on this terrace, it's very dull."

She allowed Lord Beckett to take her thinly gloved hand and lead her down the steps toward the enchanting rose garden, the scent of the blooming roses circulating around her. Her sister smiled as she watched them, before moving over to her friends and beginning a giggle-fest. The pair stepped through the little arbor that separated the rose garden from the main lawn. It made Charlotte feel peaceful, being surrounded by simple nature, and a part of her was quite triumphant that Lord Beckett had asked her to walk with him, out of all the other prospects he could have chosen.

"It's truly lovely...I wish I had a rose garden," Madeleine breathed, closing her eyes and inhaling the sweet fragrance as they ambled down the path, him holding his tricorne and watching her amusedly.

"Why not create one?" he asked, befuddled. The Wyndham clan had money and everything else at their disposal.

"My mother is allergic to roses, as is Meredith.." Madeleine sighed, breaking a rose off it's stem and gently stroking the silky petals. Her mother and sister had severe symptoms if exposed to any sort of roses, therefore, Madeleine couldn't have them in the house.

"That's horrid, not being able to have roses surrounding you then...I myself have an affinity for them," Lord Beckett murmured, a small smile touching his lips as he watched her. She took such pleasure in nature, it quite intrigued him.

"How is company business? I hear the spice trade is getting quite profitable, unless I received some misinformation," Madeleine inquired, falling into step beside Lord Beckett, truly curious about the new merchandise that her father took so much interest in. She herself adored the spice called cinnamon, and demanded it in her hot chocolate every morning. It added an exotic taste to the bitter drink, and she was quite dependent on it in her palate.

"It's going very, very well!" Lord Beckett exclaimed, surprised at her knowledge of the new venture. Ladies were normally so ignorant, but Madeleine Wyndham was so refreshing. "I know your father purchased a bit of cargo from one of my merchants."

"He has. I enjoy the cinnamon very much, although my mother despises it. Not traditional, she complains," Madeleine laughed, twirling the rose between her fingers, before holding onto his arm with one hand as they rounded back toward the mansion.

Suddenly, shouts for them sounded down the flowery corridor they walked on, and as they turned the corner, a large commotion was forming on the terrace. Mr. Mercer stalked over with a grim look to Madeleine, before Madeleine saw her sister in the midst of the crowd, lying on the ground. A choked gasp escaped her rosebud lips, as she knew exactly what was happening. She ran over as quickly as she could, fighting through the crowd of perfumed nobles to fall beside Meredith. Meredith was inflicted with epilepsy, a genetic inheritance from her mother, and it was not known in society because no one would have Meredith if it were widely known. This was the first time that the girl was hit with the wave in a public place, and Madeleine feared the consequences.

Lord Beckett moved beside her and whispered, "Move out of the way, Madeleine. Mr. Mercer will carry her to my carriage and we will take you home. Mustn't make this a bigger spectacle than it is."

His mouth was set in a grim line, as he had respect for the Duke of Windbourne and knew that if his daughters remained, talk would spread. Madeleine nodded and allowed him to escort her quickly through the estate and to the front drive, where his black carriage awaited them. Her chaperone was nowhere to be found, as was her driver, who wasn't due for another 2 hours. As she was helped into the carriage, she suddenly realized how thankful she was to this man, who was rumored to be ruthless and cruel. He wasn't.

When the carriage started to move, Madeleine looked over to her sister, who weakly leaned against the side of the carriage with her eyes closed. She gently stroked Meredith's hair, before glancing over at the Lord who sat across them.

"Thank you, Lord Beckett... I wouldn't have known of what to do if you weren't there to assist us," she murmured, mustering small appreciative smile. She leaned her head back into the seat cushion with a sigh, seeing her home rise into the distance: a great stone house surrounded by acres and acres of spacious land. The house was reminiscent of a French palace, all her mother's doing. It was late afternoon, both her parents would be in the drawing room.

As the carriage drove up the driveway, the Duchess of Windbourne saw the unfamiliar livery and nudged her husband in curiosity. Upon further inspection, the beautiful Lady Wyndham saw her eldest daughter exiting the carriage, and quickly gave a gasp of despair as Meredith was carried from the carriage. She quickly dragged her husband out of the parlor, down the stairs and through the hall until they reached the foyer, where the housekeeper was wringing her hands.

"What is the meaning of this!" she called, bringing her hands to hold onto her corseted chest, her dark eyes falling onto her daughters with a worried light.

The Duke of Windbourne, looking portly and majestic, strolled to Lord Beckett and asked, "What has happened, Cutler? Was Meredith struck with.." His grey eyes worriedly glanced to his daughter, who was being taken to her bedroom and being prepared to get checked by a doctor.

"Yes, sir. She was and your driver was not there, so I saw the need to escort both ladies home safely, lest people begin to speak more than they are of the incident," Lord Beckett nodded, doffing his hat to the Duchess, who had a knowing light in her eyes. She was sure to link him to Madeleine now, seeing their shared expressions.

"Lord Beckett...we are so grateful for your help, if not for you, my poor girls would have been shamed," the Lady began slowly, her hands wringing her handkerchief.

Lord Beckett bowed the the woman with a small smile, "It was no problem, I assure you, Duchess. I also took the liberty of calling a company doctor to check on Miss Meredith."

"Oh, goodness. Such a kindness from you, Lord Beckett. We must invite you to tea with us this Friday, will you be available? We will never be able to repay you.." the Duchess murmured, a patronizing smile on her face.

"It would be an honor to join you, be assured. But now, I must leave as business at the office calls me," Lord Beckett nodded.

Madeleine walked him out to the drive, with a small smile on her features. He was a lovely man, a kind one.

"Thank you so much, Lord Beckett. I can't express how thankful I am, really. I know my sister is also appreciative of your actions today.." she murmured, fidgeting with the rose-colored shot silk of her gown. The iridescent color kept her eyes from going to his features, which were smiling at her.

"As I have assured, Lady Madeleine, it is of no trouble to me. I will see you Friday for tea, which I look forward to very much. It was enchanting to walk with you today," he smiled, before kissing her hand and leaping into the carriage. As she watched the carriage rumble down the way, the spot he had kissed on Madeleine hand tingled with warmth. It puzzled her, but a smile played on her lips as she slowly ambled back into the house, set on seeing her sister. Friday couldn't come soon enough.

**Ooh! How was it? Like it? Hate it? Please review! :D I spent quite a while on trying to even start it.. but I have so many ideas. Reviews would be lovely.**

**~Tori.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing, my lovely readers ^.^ If I did, I would be busy snogging the life out of James and Cutler. (I didn't say that . .) Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

Turning back toward the house, Madeleine picked up her heavy skirts and quickly walked back into the house, heading for the extravagant staircase and struggling with her skirts on the journey up them. Coming upon two hallways, she turned down the East Wing and pushed open the door to the first bedchamber on the left. Meredith's room was in hushed silence as the doctor, Dr. Campbell, bowed to Madeleine and left the room. Her little sister was lying in the ornately carved sleigh bed, the pale yellow linen curtains held back by ribbons. Meredith looked younger than her 16 years with her dark hair down in a halo around her sweet face and with a small voice, she called, "Elle?"

Sighing in relief to see that her sister still possessed a pink flush in her cheeks, Madeleine moved to the bed and sat beside her sister, gently rearranging the white duvet and leaning over to take Meredith's hand.

"I shouldn't have left you, Merri. If I stayed with you, I could have helped you go into a quieter place so no one would notice," murmured Madeleine in a sorrowful voice, blaming herself for the publicity of her sister's epilepsy attack.

"Elle, stop it. You were not to blame, so please don't put yourself up as a scapegoat. This is how I was born, and I don't have any qualms. Whatever happened has happened, no one on Earth could change that," Meredith frowned, attempting to sit up. She was unhappy that her sister had to put the blame on herself, and protested instead by squeezing Madeleine's hand.

"I'm just so grateful Lord Beckett was there when it happened… he has done us a great service, Merri. All those things they say about him, about how cold and cruel he is. I don't believe they're true at all. Perhaps in business, yes, but as a person… Lord Beckett is so kind and sociable. You must remember to thank him, yes?" Madeleine smiled, pushing back Meredith's dark curls.

Nodding, Meredith pressed a kiss on her sister's hand before mustering a giggle, "I do hope you enjoyed that walk with him in the garden. He seemed smitten when he looked at you, you know. Maybe you'll marry him and be Lady Beckett, Elle!"

"Oh hush, Meredith! It was simply a friendly walk, and if something of that nature were to happen, I am not one to tell. He really is charming though…very different from what we've heard. He is visiting for tea on Friday, I hope you will be up and about by then," Madeleine protested, a blush rising in her cheeks. As much as she wouldn't admit it, she was looking forward to teatime on Friday more than she normally would.

"You should rest now, Merri. The doctor will be returning to administer your medicine and would like you well-rested. I know you despise being bed-ridden."

"I will. I think I would like to read a while before I retire. Do you think you can send up the maid, Elle?" Meredith asked, pulling a thick volume titled Macbeth from the bedside table.

"Yes, I will. Rest well, Meredith," Madeleine smiled, kissing her sister's forehead and slipping out of the room, pulling the doors gently closed.

* * *

After tracking down the lady's maid in the monolithic mansion, Madeleine tiredly walked into her bedchamber, breathing in the lavender and honeysuckle scent that circulated through the airy pale blue room. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply before sitting down at the vanity table and catching sight of the miniature of her sister and herself. They were just young girls in the small painting, and it was before Meredith had accrued epilepsy. Madeleine remembered playing with her little sister in the garden when the younger girl was hit by seizures that had the maids screaming for help. After returning her to the house, the doctor had grimly diagnosed her with the disease. Apparently, the gene was in her mother's line and Meredith had inherited the gene. Needless to say, Meredith's childhood was spent under close supervision lest the episodes hurt her or cause rumors to spread. The young lady's affliction was kept discreet and a doctor usually came to administer the vile medicines that were said to help her. What truly tugged at Madeleine was knowing that there was a chance Meredith could lose her life. It wasn't something she shouldn't dwell on, but it was the stark reality. They lived in a world of glitz and glamour, but it did not shake misfortune and the trials of life off their feet. Life was a game… those three words played in her mind. It really was a game… you lost or won. Madeleine had both lost _and _won.

Casting her eyes to the ornate mirror, she let her irises run across her features as her hand reached for a brush. Pulling at the pins in her hair laboriously, Madeleine shook out her shining dark locks before tugging the brush through them. Why the need to have a complex hairstyle when all that was left in the day was dinner with family? Besides, they were informally dining, and Madeleine hated how the pins pulled at her tender scalp. Closing her grey eyes, Madeleine's mind drifted to the color burgundy, and the color kaleidoscope into a fine suit, and suddenly, she saw Lord Beckett. Dear God, it would be the death of her. Why was she thinking about him like this? Shaking her head, Madeleine stood and smoothed out her gown before beginning to make her way out of her chambers and to the baroque dining room. Madeleine was 10 minutes early for dinner, but it was better than to spend her time in her room alone. She despised being alone at times, and was dependent on others.

Ambling slowly into the cavernous dining room, several servants bowed to Madeleine before continuing to set dishes of rich foods on the long table. Warm candlelight filled the room and the terrace doors were open to let moonlight stream across the plush Turkish carpets underfoot. Pulling out a medallion chair, Madeleine slid onto is and waited for her parents, sneaking a bit of a biscuit into her mouth.

The sounds of talking in the hallway signaled the entrance of her parents, who were speaking in low voices to each other. Madeleine's curiosity was piqued, and she slipped out the other door in order to hear them. Unfortunately, only a few words slipped to her ears.

"Yes, but…" "It will work just fine…" "But Madeleine might…" "Meredith…" "A liability!" "I'm sure Madeleine will be gracious of it if we were to suggest!"

Her brows furrowed in confusion as her parents stepped into the room and took their seats, and a few moments passed before Madeleine reentered, curtseying to her parents and taking her seat.

"Good evening Mother, Father," she smiled allowing a servant to push in her chair. The table seemed lonely without Meredith sitting across her, and her mother placed a kiss on her cheek before sitting on Lord Wyndham's right hand.

As the dinner was served, silence fell over the table, each member of the family lost in thought and absently drawing their silver forks to their mouths. Lady Wyndham looked pensively content whilst Lord Wyndham pored over documents.

"Oh, Edward, you know how I hate when you pull out your work at the dinner table," chided Lady Wyndham, a look of discontent on her features.

"Marie, you know that work is important, yes? If I did not put my effort into it, we would be living in less luxury," the Duke murmured, casting his eyes to his wife with a touch of banter.

It was an exaggeration, of course. The Windbourne title came with limitless gold and riches, beautiful homes and prestige; however, the Duke augmented his inheritance with his trade business and merging with the East India Company was most likely the best business move he ever made. He had married a Frenchwoman, Marie-Caroline Breton, who had an English father and a French mother, her dowry adding to the significant fortune.

"Father, will you be expanding to Jamaica along with Lord Beckett?" Madeleine asked, raising a glass of wine to her lips. Madeleine had an interest in business, a trait that may have worried other parents and suitors, but she considered herself lucky for her father was proud of her. She had heard of the expansions into the Caribbean and the colonies and was quite interested.

"Well," the Duke smiled, "It really depends on how soon my shipments can get over there if I were to start expanding, my darling Elle. Where did you happen to hear this tidbit of knowledge?"

Madeleine met her father's twinkling eyes with a flush on her cheek. "I… I happened to pass your study the evening all those businessmen were gathered for a conference. I did not mean to eavesdrop; I just heard it and got very intrigued."

A chuckle was expelled from the Duke and he fondly looked over to his daughter, "I do not blame you for your interest, my dear. Lord Beckett also praises your interests you know…"

The Duchess cast a look over to her husband at this and smiled to her daughter, "What do you think of Lord Beckett, Madeleine? Is he not _charmante_? It was very gallant of him to assist us in that way, I am forever indebted…"

"He's very gentlemanly, Mother, and indeed charming," Madeleine nodded, setting down her fork and casting her eyes out the tall windows. It seemed her mother wanted to pair her up with Lord Beckett, what with inviting him to tea and asking her such questions. A small smile crept onto Madeleine's fine features as she delved into her thoughts, and it kept her distracted for the rest of dinner and the dessert course.

Madeleine was at the perfect age to search for a husband, being young, beautiful, intelligent and talented. Somehow, before she spoke to Lord Beckett, she had resented the idea of marriage but now knowing that her mother wanted to drive them together, it didn't seem all too bad. Did it?

**Reviews are awesome and totally amazing motivators! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here it is! Chapter 3 :D I hope you enjoy this update, and continue to leave amazing reviews. Thank you to lenokiiee, piewacket and watercave for their support of this fanfic, for you have given me motivation. As always, I own nothing :c**

**Read and review!****  
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* * *

**Chapter 3**

Friday came sooner than Madeleine thought possible, and before she knew it, she was being laced into a simple gown of sunny brocade and silk with dashes of lace blooming from the elbow-length sleeves. Her stomach felt like little butterflies were fluttering about and her hands were terribly clammy, but why? It was not as if Lord Beckett was her fiancé or even a suitor! He was merely their guest, an exalted guest who had saved her sister from ruin. No matter how many times she kept telling herself that, Madeleine couldn't help feeling like she had to impress him and be as charming as possible. The Duchess seemed to be as nervous as her daughter and bustled around the monolithic house, ensuring that every little detail was in order. Her frazzled demeanor had the underlings fleeing to carry out her commands and Madeleine could hear the scurrying through the resonating hallways.

Meredith peeked into the room just as a pearl necklace was being clasped around Madeleine's smooth, elegant neck and a smile brightened Madeleine's features as she saw her sister, whole and hale. The days of resting and recuperation restored Meredith's lively disposition and she was glad to see her sister as the ray of the sunlight that she always was. Looking quite delectable in a powder blue gown with silvery stitching, Meredith flounced to her sister and placed a swift kiss on her cheek before eying her knowingly.

"Don't worry, Elle! If you make a fool out of yourself, I'm sure His Lordship will still be smitten with you!" she teased, gently caressing Sir Rupert, who had situated himself on her satin lap.

A furrow creased Madeleine's brow and she quietly murmured, "And why would I worry, Merri? I have no reason at all."

"Oh, anyone with eyes can see you both making eyes with each other," Meredith giggled, standing as she saw her sister slip on a pair of satin slippers. Moving beside her, she looped her arm through her sister's and pulled them out of the room. It was a beautiful day, with the puffy white clouds sailing across the pale sky and it filled Madeleine with a content sort of feeling, which would prevail for who knew how long. As the two sisters stepped into the tasteful white and gold parlor where they took tea, Lord Beckett quirked a small smile at the pair of them and the content that Madeleine had been feeling smashed to pieces and her nervous demeanor returned.

"Lord Beckett, a pleasure to see you," she demurely greeted, executing an elegant curtsey, sensing Meredith following suit beside her. All greetings aside, Madeleine allowed her eyes to travel up to Lord Beckett's icy blue ones, and a smile tugged at her pink lips.

"Miss Meredith, I'm so pleased to see you're improved. Lady Madeleine, I believe our conversation was cut off, it would honor me if you would walk with me after tea?" Lord Beckett nodded, being ever the polite gentleman.

A blush colored Madeleine's cheeks prettily as his eyes probed hers, and a nod was barely detected as she responded with, "Absolutely, My Lord. It would be my pleasure to show you our gardens. They lack our flower of common interest, but the variety of lilies may take away that disadvantage."

A smile touched Lord Beckett's lips and he inclined his head, gently replying, "I would enjoy that immensely, Lady Madeleine. I look forward to touring your gardens in your lovely company."

A giggle escaped Meredith and Madeleine looked over at her despairingly, not appreciating her lack of subtlety. Lord Beckett turned to the pair right when Meredith winked at her sister teasingly, and a blush crept into her face when she noticed that the Lord was looking right at her with quizzical eyes. A squeak escaped her and Meredith quickly turned and flounced to her mother, who had just entered the room.

"She's a tad… off color still, you see. It should be fine in a while, _right_ Merri?" gritted Madeleine, knowing full well that a smirk was gracing Lord Beckett's lips and that he had caught on rather well. Meredith nodded, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she attempted to bite back a laugh, before the Duchess tilted her head in curiosity.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked, raising a brow at her daughters.

"Oh, Mother, it's nothing! Only that Elle likes—"

"Oho! You've arrived, Cutler! Pleasure, pleasure as always. I'm glad you were able to pry yourself away from the paperwork and join us for a spot of tea and conversation!" rumbled the Duke, who had just stepped in and broke across his daughter unknowingly. A relieved breath escaped Madeleine as she sat down in the upholstered chair across from Lord Beckett, who looked rather handsome in a navy blue suit.

* * *

As the tea was served in its delicate, gold-filigreed cups, conversation of trade and expansion quickly tided over the small talk of parties and seasons, leading Meredith to be quite bored by the talk. Madeleine quietly listened and offered discreet opinions from time to time, impressing Lord Beckett with simply the possession of a mind for business. In all his 32 years, he had never met a single woman who had shown the slightest bit of intelligence in his presence. It was as if they expected the powerful and authoritative Lord Beckett to marry a meek, simpering Earl's daughter. Like everything else he owned, Lord Beckett must have a wife that outshone all others around her and proved herself worthy of her title. His Lady Beckett seemed to live in Madeleine Wyndham, and his attentions for her seem to multiply tenfold.

Utterly bored by the proceedings, Meredith perked up and made a sweet suggestion, bent on showing off her sister's skills. "I have a lovely idea! Mother, Father, Elle should demonstrate her skill on the pianoforte for us. She plays so beautifully, it's a shame that she shouldn't showcase it to us."

Madeleine shot a murderous look to her sister, although she was aware that Meredith meant well for her. She feared that she would slip up and tarnish the image of perfection she had kept up for Lord Beckett, and she was wishing that her parents would not insist upon it. Unconsciously, she sunk her teeth into her plush bottom lip in a state of nerves, her hands fidgeting with the linen napkin on her lap.

"Oh, what a lovely idea! My Madeleine has been taking pianoforte lessons for years upon years and I must say, she puts many to shame with her talent. I agree with Meredith, why don't you play a piece or two, Madeleine darling?" the Duchess beamed, clasping her hands together and seeing the opportunity to show off her little jewel of a daughter.

Lord Beckett nodded and looked across the table at the nervous and beautiful young lady sitting there. "It would be lovely to hear you play, Lady Madeleine. I was not aware you possessed such a talent, for musical skill becomes a young and accomplished lady."

A beautiful, shining white pianoforte sat beside the high, large French doors that led to the terrace and the gardens beyond, sunlight pouring across the flawless white and ebony keys. Looking over at it, a sudden desire to play and impress flooded her chest, and Madeleine slowly stood, smoothing out the rich fabric of her gown and gracefully walking over to the instrument. Sweeping back her gown, she sat herself onto the damask-patterned padded bench and spread her lithe fingers across the keys. Feeling eyes on her, she allowed her irises to drift up to see Lord Beckett watching with more intensity than her parents and enthralled younger sister.

After a few moments, her fingers began to weave patterns across the keys, delightfully sweet and lilting melodies melding with harmonies as Madeleine's eyes drifted closed. She played with a passion and enthusiasm that had Lord Beckett frozen and unable to look away. He had never seen a human being take such enjoyment in a pursuit, and her intricate playing looked so amazingly effortless. The air was filled with the crystal clear sound of one standing melody cushioned by an array of different harmonies, and it was all the maids could do to not stop their work and stand behind the doorway to the room and listen in, just for a moment.

As the passionate music descended into the soft epilogue of the piece, Madeleine sat for a few moments, the growing rate of her heart slowly decreasing and when she opened them, she was almost surprised to see she was not alone. She had gotten so lost in the music that everything else seemed to just disappear. Standing with a blush, she offered a curtsey and returned to her seat, grey eyes sparkling beautifully in the afternoon glow that illuminated the tearoom.

"That piece was not something I've heard before, Madeleine. What was the title?" the Duchess asked her daughter, the shadows of a proud smile on her fair features as she dabbed at her fingers with a linen napkin.

"Well… it's not exactly a piece you would hear anywhere else. I composed that piece myself, Mother. Many other songs I play are also of my own creation…"

"I knew my daughter was talented, but I never realized it was to that extent! Isn't my eldest a treasure, Lord Beckett?" the Duke beamed, setting down a pear knife and reaching for a scone.

A pleased smile was on Lord Beckett's normally passive features as he set down his cup of tea and nodded in agreement, "An amazing young woman indeed. You won't find too many young ladies who take on composition and do it well. That was a beautifully done piece, Lady Madeleine; I would enjoy hearing more again."

"Of course, Milord, it would be my pleasure," beamed Madeleine, shooting a shy glance at her sister, who was bursting with happiness for her sister. The rest of the tea passed by smoothly, and more easily as the tension melted away and by the end of teatime, Madeleine's cheeks were suffused with a pink blush and Meredith was growing weary.

* * *

After suggesting that Meredith retire for a nap, the Duchess sent off Madeleine and Lord Beckett for a turn in the gardens before his departure.

"Surely, you would wish for a chaperone, Your Grace?" Lord Beckett asked, surprised that the Duchess had enough faith to let the pair go on their own. It was not socially proper, and the strait-laced Duchess surprised him at times.

"Yes, yes! I trust my daughter very much, Lord Beckett, and you are a good man. I trust the pair of you. Now, shoo!"

A laugh escaped Madeleine's lips and she led them out to the perfectly proportioned gardens that were alight with the scent of flowers and fruit. Afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow across the patches of hydrangeas and lilies, blotted by the shadows cast by the plum and peach trees that grew with abundant fruits that let off their sweet fragrances. Benches dotted the landscape and gardeners actively tended to the plants, dutifully watering and weeding. As they traipsed down a more secluded path, Madeleine let go of Lord Beckett's arm and strolled happily ahead, taking in the blooms and colorful leaves of the trees.

"I enjoyed today, Lady Madeleine, you are very gifted. You take such good care of your sister and that is something that touches me, for it is not a particularly common sight. You see sisters antagonizing each other in the name of society and elevation through it…"

"Thank you, Milord… I do care for my sister greatly, having been through a considerable amount of things with her. And it would be pleasing to me if you would call me just Madeleine, or Elle. Or perhaps, a name of your choosing," Madeleine murmured, walking back to him with a smile curving her lips.

"Ah, then you must call me Cutler. I will, of course, come up with a name for you at some point. I'm very original, you see. The gardens here are lovely; it puts mine to shame in all honesty. My housekeeper never had much taste for plants and seemed to just laze off when I commissioned her to plan the ones at my home. I'm enjoying you—Ahh, the gardens. I'm enjoying them immensely."

Dear God, what was wrong with him? Cutler Beckett was never flustered, _never! _Composing himself, he cleared his throat and turned to her. As he looked down at her with contemplative eyes, Lord Beckett suddenly wondered what it would be like to feel her delectable lips under his, and to feel the warmth of her waist in his hands. Blinking rapidly, he quickly began walking again, surprised at himself. Madeleine had been looking up at him abashedly; she was taking in his features at closer proximity and was greatly surprised when he began to walk them at a much faster pace than before. Had something bad occurred in his mind?

They continued to stroll, now silent. As they neared the curve that would turn them back, Madeleine's slipper caught on an errant stone and her body tipped forward. In the split moment, she was scared, fearing the outcome of face-planting into the cobble path. To her surprise, a pair of strong, warm hands caught her waist and held her aloft, halfway to the jagged cobbles.

Her breath caught, and her arms were gripping at Lord Beckett's sleeve in a vice-like hold. Closing her eyes, she felt him pull her up, and instinctively, Madeleine moved forward, catching his lips in a swift, gentle kiss. In horror of what she had just done, she quickly straightened herself, blushing madly.

"Are you quite alright, Madeleine?" Lord Beckett inquired with a slight smirk on his features.

Nodding, Madeleine uttered a quick apology and mumbled, "I should go inside, I shall see you in."

"Of course," he smiled, seemingly unperturbed by the event, although his mind was racing at the sudden action.

As the pair parted at the front door, Lord Beckett winked at her almost unnoticeably before quickly mounting his carriage and leaving the grounds. Biting her lip fiercely, Madeleine practically ran up the stairs and quarantined herself in her room, pacing and nervously wondering what led to her actions.

That evening, Madeleine busily prepared for bed and was to climb into bed and just forget the last part of Lord Beckett's visit when her lady's maid, Eleanor, entered with a blush and smile. In her hands was a bouquet of roses that sat on a silver tray, closed in by a glass dome.

"From Lord Beckett, Miss… Shall I leave it here on your vanity?"

"Yes, Eleanor. You're dismissed, thank you very much…" she breathed, taking in the crimson roses with pleasure. Pushing her chair closer, she fingered the little heavy paper that accompanied the flowers and nervously flicked the paper open.

_Lady Madeleine,_

_I am hoping you are not too hard on yourself for what had transpired earlier, for I am quite not regretting of it, as forward as that may sound. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit today and hope it was not at all ruined for you. I am hoping the roses please you; they are specially enclosed in a container so that you may enjoy them as well as be safe to be in your residence. I hope to see you again soon._

_Signed, _

_Lord Cutler Beckett_

Setting down the missive, a feeling of calm washed over Madeleine and she looked at the roses, touched by their pure beauty. How thoughtful and clever of Lord Beckett, she thought. After several more moments of re-reading the note and enjoying the roses, she finally resigned to her exhaustion and nested herself under the rich linen duvet of her bed, drifting into a deep slumber.

* * *

**Ooh! Madeleine was a little forward, wasn't she? ;D I'm sure Lord Beckett enjoyed it though. Muaha, upping the ante! Reviews are cherished!**


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